


Tarine Tea

by Thymesis



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff and Humor, Late Night Conversations, M/M, MayThe4th Treat, Multi, Tea, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-04-13 18:16:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14118114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thymesis/pseuds/Thymesis
Summary: One Jedi Master, two Guardians of the Whills, and too many cups of tarine tea.





	Tarine Tea

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gabriel4Sam](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gabriel4Sam/gifts).



“May I offer you some tea, Master Kenobi?”

“Is it tarine again?” Baze asked, eyeing the kettle with undisguised loathing.

“Yes.” The ghost of a smile played around the corners of Chirrut’s mouth.

“Bah!”

“I’d love to try some,” Obi-Wan interjected. “Is this ‘tarine’ derived from a local plant?”

“That’s correct,” Chirrut said as he poured Obi-Wan a steaming cup of the rich, purple-tinged brown liquid and then poured one for himself. “The tarine bush grows wild in the desert beyond the walls of Jedha City. The tea is brewed from its leaves.”

Obi-Wan took a sip. “Mmm. Delicious.”

“There’s just no accounting for taste, is there?” Baze groused. “I’d sooner drink Chirrut’s bathwater.”

“And indeed he may have done so in the past,” Chirrut murmured under his breath.

“We’re not talking about that, remember?”

“Ah. Yes. Forgive me, Baze.”

Obi-Wan cleared his throat. “I believe we were discussing the role of attachment in the lives of those who follow the Ways of the Force…?”

“Ah. Yes. Forgive me, Master Kenobi.” Chirrut paused to gather his thoughts before continuing. “As you know, the Guardians of the Whills differ from the Jedi in this regard. If the Force is an energy field which binds all life in the universe together, the Force _is_ attachment, and to deny its salience in our lives is folly.”

“Hmm.” Obi-Wan stroked his chin. “I take your point, and I would not dispute your conception of the nature of the Force itself or, for that matter, the notion that all life is connected. However, with great power comes great responsibility. As Force users, we cannot allow our attachments to overrule our good judgment—”

“Did you just imply that _we_ are Force users? Ha!” Baze rolled his eyes and harrumphed.

“Well, of course, I should think—”

“No, Master Kenobi, you misunderstand. Baze is right to call your assumption into question. While on occasion the Force may grant us great insight, the Guardians cannot control it and do not presume to actively _use_ the Force. Not as the Jedi do, at any rate.”

“I see. I stand corrected. This would also explain your philosophical position on excesses of emotions such as love and anger—”

“Which are totally natural—” Baze interjected.

“—which the Jedi strive to moderate—if not fully eliminate.” Obi-Wan finished. He sipped his tea contentedly.

Baze snorted and muttered something unintelligible under his breath.

“Pardon?” Obi-Wan asked.

“He doesn’t think it’s possible to fully eliminate one’s emotions,” Chirrut said.

“It may not be,” Obi-Wan admitted readily enough. “But to act upon one’s selfish emotions may be the first step down a dark and dangerous path…”

“Or the first step on the path to greatness! You should see what Chirrut can accomplish when he’s mad!” Baze said.

Chirrut waved his hand dismissively. “My accomplishments are negligible when compared to the deeds of the least Jedi of the Order.”

“Bah!”

“You are just being modest, Guardian,” Obi-Wan said, voice warm with appreciation.

“Would you care for more tea?” Chirrut asked, changing the subject swiftly away from himself.

“Why yes, thank you—that would be delightful.”

Obi-Wan held out his cup, and Chirrut poured.

“Bah!” Baze lurched to his feet. “I’ve had enough of this nonsense. It’s getting late. I’m going to bed!”

“ _Really_ , Baze…”

“Goodnight, Guardian Melbus.”

Baze inclined his head and exited without another word.

“Ah, you must forgive him,” Chirrut said once he and Obi-Wan were alone. “He means no offense, but he’s never managed to acquire a taste for tarine tea.”

“Well, as a wise Guardian of the Whills once said: There’s just no accounting for taste.”

They laughed together.

“I heard that!” Baze shouted from the bedroom.

Obi-Wan put his teacup down and yawned. “He does have a point about bed, though. I’m starting to flag too, I’m afraid.”

“Understood.” Chirrut hesitated for a moment. Questing yet tentative fingers reached out to brush the back of Obi-Wan’s hand. “Perhaps…perhaps you would share our bed with us tonight, Master Kenobi?”

Obi-Wan laid his hand over Chirrut’s. When he spoke, it was with calm and surety: “It would be my honor, Guardian.”

“Please call me Chirrut, Master Kenobi.”

“Only if you agree to call me Obi-Wan.”

“Agreed.”

They went to bed. That proved to be even better than the conversation…never mind the tarine tea!

 

END

**Author's Note:**

> (1) The type of tea named in this story comes from _Guardians of the Whills_ by Greg Rucka.
> 
> (2) Posted to the exchange on March 27, 2018.


End file.
